Cloudless Smile
by Porcy
Summary: In order for the world to meet up with him again, he has to be Gamzee Makara, after all. Time passes and passes to another day, and Gamzee still feels the need to continue his old deeds. Without any connection toward any friends for what seems to be eternity, Gamzee feels alone in his big mansion until he walks down memory lane. (Humanstuck)
1. Mellow Spaces

_**AN:**__So,__ I did a thing. A thing I'm not sure of why of publishing.  
But hey, nothing bad over that. Maybe I'll even continue it . . . eh.  
If anyone ever stumbles upon this, tell me your opinions, and if you want more. Because I'm right on the edge of doing any fanfiction at all.  
__-Porcy_

**_Update:_**_ You know what, after thinking about this story, I think I'll continue it. I'm sorry for giving low expectations and bad premonitions towards this, I've decided to challenge myself since I've never done any "chapter" stories before. This will be fun, will it? I think so. It'd be fun for you if you enjoy it and it'd be fun for me while writing it.  
Again, sorry for sounding so bitter towards this, I'm not really bitter, I just really don't feel comfortable writing fanfiction for some reason . . . it's nothing against anything, because in actuality I like reading fanfiction. ^^ But I just wouldn't see me being good at it.  
But, let this be a challenge, enjoy this chapter if you so please. -Porcy_

The bedroom of a man whose pockets are never empty was thrashed and disfigured of organization. The floor was covered with short-sleeved shirts and spotted baggy pants, not so much of a variety of clothes, but enough for this man to live. The man gazed at his wall as he laid lazily upon his unkempt but heavenly soft bed. His mind was blank, and he looked at each painting of his wall one at a time.

Gamzee Makara was the kind of person that seemed to be more of a cloud than an actual person. He was free of life decisions and tragedies of bankruptcy over his envious wealth; taken care of his silhouette of a father that was always in a different state as if he wanted to avoid his son at all costs. He indicated that his son was far from being able to give the world's face a permanent greeting and gave him more and more of his riches to survive. Gamzee, although a clueless teenager at heart, didn't need this amount of help since he was already a rich man of his career as a worker of a music store. But yet he'd always accept his father's help of a sloppy snatch of actually hearing from his dad. He was lonely in his vast mansion; but kept content as a fluffy cloud.

His gaze at his paintings was still held. He also had a knack of painting, and he'd always paint when he was going through his episodes of explosive wonders and tearful bouts of rage. He was an emotional character as a teenager, and it never seemed to subside even as a young adult. And to make the injury bleed more he was a drug addict as well.

He started with taking a couple blunts a day to cool his nerves as a seventeen year old over problems with school and with his dad and his relationship. Slowly savoring the horrid bitterness of the smoke and for the weight of the mellowness to bear down. Over the occasional smoke, he was happy as can be; made some new friends around town and most of all, he wasn't sad or angry.

Whenever he couldn't get his joints, he could always feel his mind slipping down to some sort of an abyss, where he couldn't feel anything. No rage, no elation. Perhaps over the years of taking marijuana it mellowed down his system completely and perhaps permanently. Which was a great thing for Gamzee, except he missed the feeling of just - _feeling. _When he was eighteen the composure laid down, and he decided to quit until he felt _lonely _again. The loneliness settled in almost immediately; he would sit down on the couch one day and like a scorpion's sting: nothing could feel right. It would strike and his subconscious would complain to him: _Just, maybe, to get rid of this, I could take another joint. _He, in omniscient control of this craving, rejected every time. It wasn't an addiction of any sorts, it was just an occasional urge to escape being _him _at any moment.

The first painting he caught an eye upon was a depiction of a clown. Its grey face paint dripping down upon its lopsided chin and its clothes casual and lackluster. Hell, that was _him_ in the picture. It was his very first painting to be exact, and it looked mediocre at best. The guidelines didn't seem to be fitting of Gamzee's face and his face just seemed warped and contorted over the overuse of the grey and white paint. But hey, practice makes perfect, right? And he definitely got better over the years.

Except the quality of the painting didn't bother him as much as to _why _he did it. During the time of the painting's creation, he had joined a group of random people they call '_Subjugglators' _that liked to paint their faces with face paint and were rich as hell. They were dominant and cocky over this, and took hits of drugs every chance they could get because they just _could. _Gamzee relished of being in the group as a teenager, and he decided to brainstorm of what his face paint would look like. He had a knack as an artist too, and he never tried painting before. And thus, with face paint decided and lush over the high holders of the group, he thought he'd be top dog of everything.

Yet, as a clueless teenager, he was wrong.

This was a time when he started doing marijuana, of being in an underground cult, society seemed to be miles away. His dad was miles away. The world seemed to be miles away. He was an outcast upon nowhere's face. He was angry and kept being so in school too. And the only way to be connected to people and possible make friends was to be the happiest person he could be.

And hell, did it work for him for so long.

Life, at this moment, is steady and working for Gamzee Makara. Except at moments like this. These moments seem to be eternity. Maybe it could be? He didn't know as he lit and pressed in his lips into the new fresh joint he had prepared for this moment.

_I mean, why the hell not? _He kept thinking to himself as the joint was resting on top of his drawer. It wasn't an addiction of any sorts, he thought that too. He just loved being the happiest person to his friends and at the world. He couldn't live without being Gamzee Makara: the mellow, dopey, caring, and most of all, drugged up person he could be.

He could sense and see the vast fog of smoke flourish at his face as he breathed out the puff of smoke. This was his first joint in a while, it wouldn't really hurt at all.

He closed his eyes for a bit and breathed out happily. A content faint smile rested on his face. He could feel the miraculous miracles sprout out into his brain and settle its spot there. He sank his head into his pillow and stared up at the wall.

His gaze stretched and gave an interpretation of his mind's creativity. Shapes of all bright colors appeared and broke apart. He puckered his lips and took another drag.

It was slow for the composure and happiness to come in, but it was worth it for him. He stretched his arms side by side of him and felt happy after a long day.

"_Dad, when are you going to stay here?" _

"_Not in a long while. I'm sorry, Gamzee."_

Gamzee starts to stir in his relaxation. In fact, he hadn't seen his dad in a while now . . . probably over contact issues and problems with his business. Maybe that's why he felt so inadequately alone after all. He hadn't been able to go around town for a while, maybe he needed that. But not until he's finished his joint, he most definitely needed that to be Gamzee.

As more and more smokes are taken in, he saw and felt the world's head turn to him and smile like it should always smile in his mind; _Hey there long best friend. _He heard in the back end of his head.

Hell, good riddance. This was Gamzee Makara. He _needed _this in his mind.

It wasn't after another ten minutes for him to be done with the smoke. He got up from his bed with an elongating smile forming upon his face, and threw away the remains of the joint.

Now as Gamzee Makara he should visit his happy town of miracles and colors. Like it always _should_ be.


	2. Old Faces

**AN:** _If it's been a long wait for you, I apologize for that, and I apologize if this is a bad chapter. But I'm glad if you do enjoy and want to see more. Thanks._

_Update: I know it's been late, I'm sorry. I've been busy with school and other things in my mind, so, sorry chapter three isn't here yet . . . I promise, it'll be out. This story isn't done. _

_-Porcy _

All that Karkat Vantas could hear was his consistent typing along on his laptop. It seemed to be almost an eternity for him to receive his Internet back as he couldn't pay the bill on time, of work being dirt-cheap with pay and no options he could venture to. He had kicked back onto his bed with his back against the wall surfing the net and seeing if he missed anything, and now he was practicing his amateur hacking with nothing else to do on his day off in his small apartment.

He had always struggled with money ever since he was on his own. He was in college going through courses of being a security guard, and he realized of the seemingly heavy stress he was putting upon him for this job. He was interested of surveillance and enforcement upon the law of society and humanity; even though of how much he hated humanity. He was never a people-person in the years of his bitter life, he never connected to anybody personally outside of his school, where that was the only outside environment he was pulled with his hands tied tight. He had an average IQ, but a vocabulary worth foaming in the mouth over.

Despite his dream of becoming a security guard, he was shorter than other men and was scrawny for his tough-pounded ambition. To combat this disadvantage, he would take trips to the gym at a regular persistence with some amount of luck, but never enough. He still could never defend himself.

There were before some times of when he nearly got picked on for a fight of some overall thugs around the apartment complex, but to no avail. He had been in one fight before, to which Karkat was in critical condition over, and an incident where he would last ever think about. He was battered, bruised, and left confused. After the fight and the trip to the hospital, Karkat never spoke of the ambush ever again.

Karkat also lived in a cruddy apartment, filled with economically depressed rags and a couple thieves here and there.

Enough for Karkat Vantas to survive, at least.

It was a lazy day for him, and all he had on was his ratty grey jacket and his black jeans, the knees ripped and the threads hanging desperately loose. His eyes studied and focused upon his blackened screen with green codes, typing into his keyboard to another oblivion. His ambition was rising and his temples beating and scorching.

He was attempting to expand his hacking skills up to a T for about several months now. Yet, he had never gotten a knack of technology. He would try and keep trying until he fell down to failure like a pile of decomposing bones. His anger issues rising and his level of coolness slipping down. This time he feels the time had came where he finally may succeed in a hacking session. This was true joyous _rarities _to dig over, and now he may have a chance of achieving it! _This _was how Vantas _should _be able to be.

Rows and rows of numbers and letters he read as he kept typing. He could feel his anticipated success course through his mind and heart, and he started smiling.

His eyes didn't leave the screen until his phone started to ring.

* * *

Gamzee's smile gleamed upon his face and he pressed his phone close to his right ear, awaiting for a special bestie's missed response. It had seemed forever since him and Karkat had communicated, about years actually. Their relationship as best friends toppled over itself whenever Karkat had gotten into a huge broad fight at the age of eighteen, and ever since then they stopped talking altogether. Now Gamzee was gone out of Karkat's life, and Gamzee was now going to talk to him.

It had took a couple rings for Gamzee to hear his voice again.

"Hello? Who the hell is this?"

"_Hey _Karbro! I'm - glad to hear from my bro again!"

There was a long pause coming from Karkat's line, and Gamzee's heart drooped, thinking that Karkat may have already given up of the call.

Along with the pause there was a discomforted sigh. "Gamzee? How do you still have my phone number? Why the _fuck_ are you calling?"

"I . . . " Gamzee stumbled upon his words after that response.

So, he guessed that Karkat hadn't forgiven him after the years.

"I wanted to all up and hear from my long-lost best bro, you know?"

"Well I _don't_ want to hear from you ever again! Not now, not _ever!" _

Gamzee's voice softened. "Karbro, please . . . " Gamzee's mellow happiness didn't suffice over Karkat's smoldering voice.

"Why? Why do you want to talk to me? It's _clear _to me that you're doing astonishing on your own with the fucking tubs of money you get every single moment you live in that mansion." Karkat took a breath and continued. "You beaten me to a tarnished pulp over your fucking _miraculous miracles _you call your fucking drugs, and after _three _years of everything being okay without each other you're back?" He stopped and took another breath. "I have every right to despise you! _I fucking hate you!" _

Gamzee's mouth gaped open, being revised by what happened three years ago. It made him feel so horrible that Karkat still carried so much hatred in his heart, but, he still had beaten his best friend and left him at the streets bleeding and bruised.

But yet no charges were pressed for him. Nothing was brought up towards him for karma.

"_Then, _why didn't you change your phone number or some shit?" Gamzee mustered out. His upper lip sucking in its bottom counterpart.

Karkat again didn't reply at immediate thought. The other line was quiet and all Gamzee could hear was his breathing.

"Well I didn't expect to hear from your sorry ass again. I thought we were over and _done _with. Sure, we might of been the best of friends then but but we are sure as hell not anymore." Karkat sighed in its angry chime. "I'm hanging up now. Goodbye Gamzee."

Gamzee didn't rebuttal anything and the call ended.

* * *

Karkat's eyes didn't leave his phone after he hung up from Gamzee. His eyes now studying nothing. It was almost like he had forgotten him after three years. He shoved Gamzee into the void of his mind and couldn't feel to hate or forgive him anymore. It was over, it was done with, he was gone out of his life forever with just a lingering memory and Karkat's psychology more extraordinary.

Was it okay to let go? At this moment Karkat had forgotten the answer to that question. He hated Gamzee, but now in the present it didn't seem to have mattered anymore.

He looked back at his computer screen and decided to finish what he started. Until he heard a knock at the door.

The now enraged and bubbling Karkat looked up from where he was and scoffed. He put his laptop on his bed and walked to his front door, peering through the peephole.

To his dead-on anticipation, he saw Gamzee Makara smiling with his lazy mouth grinning ear to ear.

Without even opening the door to greet Gamzee, he scowled: "You need to get the hell out now, Makara."

"Aw c'mon Karbro," Gamzee answered, and upon Karkat's second glance at the peephole his smile never changed. "you're still my best friend to me."

Karkat opened the door and his glare and frown met into Gamzee's smile and elated stare. "If you weren't, and if I really did all up and meant that all that long ago, why did I even motherfucking came back?"

"Does that even fucking matter Gamzee?" Karkat shot back, his temples feeling lit with fire over Gamzee's presence. "You still did what you fucking did, asshole. And despite you coming back you're probably still phased out from all the drugs you take. The only fucking reason why you're so uppity fucking bright is because of them!"

Gamzee's face lost all the liveliness of it. His eyes were still gleaming but to a now dimmer tone. "I stopped taking all of that after the, uh, night."

Karkat took a deep breath and stared into Gamzee's serious face. "Is that so now?"

"I, all up and felt horrible about what I motherfuckin' did. Really, I felt like shit when we stopped talkin' and immediately took a step back from the drugs and got some motherfucking help . . . I really didn't mean to bruise you up and shit, Karbro. It was the motherfuckin' false miracles . . . "

"You stopped? Your eyes are bloodshot."

"I just took one joint. I freakin' swear, I'm fine n-"

"Just please," Karkat looked him dead in the eye and his eyes escaped to his feet's point of view. "get some help, and stay away from me for now on."

"But I'm fine now Karbro!" Gamzee clutched the door from closing and stared into Karkat. "No hardcore drugs or anythin'."

Karkat's eyes narrowed. "I'm busy at the moment, so if you supposedly feel the need to talk to me, I'll call you. Will that satisfy you?"

"Sure thing," Gamzee said, his smile spreading to his cheeks again. "At your house, bro?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Awesome bro, see ya later."

Gamzee let go of the door and Karkat slammed it closed. He turned around to revisit his mellow stroll around town.

And as the days and nights pass on more, he was still waiting for Karkat's call.


	3. Grey Stars

**AN: **_I feel horrible as I type this. I stood up till four to finish this. It has been more than a month for me to get this done . . . I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for disappointing all of you. I started school and had been caught up with that and just haven't been motivated. It's no excuse, and I'm very sorry. Hopefully this is a good chapter, it is indeed the longest one yet, and I honestly feel a bit happy with it. I can understand your impatience and concern over the long wait, but here it is. Have a good day, and enjoy. -Porcy _

* * *

A month had passed. And thus a quarter of August was now gone. The heat's seether was calming down its rage and now it was just a subtle flow of the wind. The apartment complex remained the same and Karkat's peace was settled. Nothing came to bother or disturb him, and that was what he most liked.

Karkat kept his head down facing his animating feet and sidewalk. He had decided over his passed college courses he would take a walk down central town. It'd been a while since he stepped into the fresh air and sunshine of the outside, and mostly he didn't pleasure it. The sun wasn't his cup of tea for an enjoying or ideal day for him, as he was pale and a night owl to his grey heart. His light grey jacket he still wore during the summer was under a black shirt, and his black hair and bangs shaggy.

Karkat almost forgot how the other parts of town looked as he was leaving the area of the complex. He could actually see more thick trees blooming in the grass surrounded with cement and all cars alike driving down the lanes and roads. Few teenagers walking down the sidewalk with music blasting in their headphones and some people just saying hello to their town. Despite his hatred of being around people, he got over it for today. It seemed he had needed a quick dive with the sun for his complexion and perhaps his overall mood. Sheer happiness did need its light after all.

It was a pretty town with nice stores and a nice scenery. That was all Karkat wanted to please his need than a cheap apartment and fishing for rare finances every day of his life. His apartment complex was farther away from the central part of town, where the town became more scarce and quiet the closer you were to the land's exit. He never thought of moving anywhere else as money was tight already. Except as he's witnessed the town wasn't necessarily the safest place around. As he witnessed from Gamzee, an ostracized druggie with face paint to cover up his problems within. That was what Gamzee was as he realized on that night; Gamzee's eyes weren't bloodshot like how they were most of the time. The bags under his eyes even worse than Karkat. He could remember it like he was staring at a clear pane of glass, his face glued upon the surface and feeling like there was no chance for the glue to dissipate. Gamzee was sober. He knew this by the sudden depression Gamzee had carved upon his riddled face. He would twitch at any given time in conversation and most of all, Karkat could see inside of Gamzee that he was completely losing it.

Yet Karkat did nothing. There were times where he would loathe himself over his carelessness of their situation. Maybe it was all his fault. He felt it was. Gamzee didn't recover from the drugs soon enough, no help therapeutically or a trip to a rehabilitation clinic. After Karkat left Gamzee's life for good he had no clue how he succeeded in sobriety's rocky mountains, or if he even completely did.

It was all a mystery of what was behind the face paint.

The blinding sun's rays splashed into Karkat's eyes after he took a step from the engulf of a large canopy. He covered his eyes as he squinted. _God I hate the sun. _He thought as he looked left and right to walk down the street. To his right he saw a park with a few kids swinging on swings and a couple running around in the playground, and at the opposite side there were more buildings. He looked back down on the ground and he could already feel the sensation of the sun sneak up to his head and back.

_I hate the sun so much. _

"Karbro? Is that you bro?" Karkat heard a painfully reminiscent voice, and he knew who it was by a blink of an eye. Gamzee's voice was deep and sluggish. His words stretched out and he always sounded like he was never paying attention. Which is quite fitting for him. Karkat's head turned to his left to see Gamzee at the other side of the sidewalk, walking out of his job and waving like he was a child.

Karkat scoffed, and sighed. It had been two months, maybe he could've kept that record if he just stayed inside.

Gamzee was wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of black baggy pants with grey dots. His strands of black wavy hair that reached to his neck curling up, the sunlight reflecting a true smile at almost every strand. _The make-up is gone. _Karkat thought. It had been a while since he saw Gamzee's face without all that crud, his face could almost seem normal now. Karkat kicked himself in the head, or, he wish he could do that when their faces met.

Gamzee looked both ways, before he paced and jaywalked across the novice street. His smile could've lasted for eons staring at Karkat as they finally met face to face.

He was like a tower to Karkat. His eyes peering over his smoky eyes. He was about a head and a half taller than him despite his poor slouch, while Karkat was about an amateur height based on others. In his teens he hated being short while everyone else was nearing the six-foot mark. He despised people looking down at him as they talked, feeling as if he was a chastised child. He loathed being not what he wanted to be. Before he was eighteen he had gotten a growth spurt, making him at least ranging in the average height of a female. But alas, he was still not happy.

"Karbro," Gamzee's deep voice had a bit of a rasp to it. "have you been all up and fuckin' distracted for a month?"

Karkat wanted to step back from him. "Yes fuckass. I've been going to college courses."

"College?" Gamzee's eyebrows rose up, as if he was flabbergasted of even the thought of college. "That's motherfuckin' interestin', brotha."

"Yeah, sure." He muttered.

Gamzee smiled down at Karkat, and attempted to wrap his arms around for a "glad to see you again in the flesh" hug. He slouched, his brain instantly declining his embrace. "I'm not in the mood."

"Come on," Gamzee pouted. "Do you still not like me?"

Karkat again, was conflicted. Instead of giving an answer, he hugged him. A bitter and grimacing taste tarnishing in his mouth.

"Th-There you go bro." Gamzee chuckled. "Glad to have this miraculous reunion of ours."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

Gamzee laughed and hugged back.

* * *

He looked around the vastness and the riches of Gamzee's mansion. _Holy shit, this is amazing. _

Gamzee gazed upon his living room, seeing it all clean and neat. The glass table sitting in front of the plush velvet couch wiped from any rings or spills and the couch not having several shirts and pants resting on the cushions. He turned and stared back at Karkat with a composed grin, seeing Karkat's face shrivel in marvel and surprise.

"How the hell is this place so clean?" Karkat's lips never closed and he kept looking around.

"I did a lil' spring cleanin' . . . except it ain't spring, just fall." Gamzee looked down and pondered. "I guess it's a fall cleanin' for ya bro."

"Did you hire a maid or something? No way in fucking hell you did something responsible."

"But I did, brother!" He chuckled and walked into the kitchen. Karkat followed, expecting he only did a single room with a house as big as his.

He saw on the marble counter there were no baggies of 'his hit-ons' or food sitting since yesterday, in fact it was spotless. The stove and the fridge and the sink was practically perfect. And Karkat's eyes caved in more.

"You want anything?" Gamzee opened the fridge to unravel foods that Karkat could never afford.

"A drink would be okay, I guess."

Gamzee pulled out bottles of Faygo and tossed one to Karkat. He sat down on the counter's very own booth and relaxed without any tension.

"Things have changed. It's all different."

"Don't all up and think of it as that."

"It's like I'm not even in the same goddamn house."

"Things do change. Bro, it's nice to see you again."

Karkat tensed as he looked at Gamzee opening his soda bottle. Immediately upon the snap and the subtle fizz, he drank down the artificial wonder, enlightened by the vibrant cherry flavor.

"If you don't like cherry miracles, there's a few grape and strawberry bottles waitin' for a wicked drink-on. They'd be happy for a good ole buddy to be their good motherfuckin' friend." Gamzee laughed a bit and took another sip.

"You still say this shit is the best thing ever, when it isn't."

Gamzee smiled and his eyes drooped. "It's one of them."

Karkat took a few sips as Gamzee was done with his first bottle. He tossed it into the garbage bin and walked to the fridge again to pull out a grape flavored soda.

Karkat pushed aside of his drink. "What have you been doing after we last fucking met?"

Gamzee's mind outstretched a smile and he turned back to face him. Yet he didn't know how to exactly reply. "Just been workin' and shit. Gotten my life its shine on back. Had a bit of counselin' and now everything's peachy motherfuckin' keen."

"I guess that's good for your smug-ass." Karkat swished around his cherry soda in bitterness.

Gamzee shrugged and glanced at him. "And I see in my mind's good ole eye that you're still explosive Karkat."

"You don't say, do you fuckass?"

"Nah, I can still see the blasphemous stars blazing in them eyes."

Karkat was too confused and annoyed to reply. He took a small sip of his soda.

It was a moment of silence for the two after that. Gamzee was now done with his second soda and turned the plastic bottle to its side. Karkat looked up at Gamzee with a bitter rain cloud's tears blurring his face.

"Wanna play a lil' game to break the ice?"

"I guess?"

"Sure thing. I'll start."

He pinched the top and spun it counter-clockwise. The speed forming it into an illusionary circle. It eventually stopped to point at Karkat again.

"Now ask me a question, bro."

"What the fuck happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" Gamzee frowned.

"_Nothing, _I guess. Did you just do all this to impress me?"

"_Nahh . . . _I'm as serious as a rock."

"You're probably stoned as a fucking rock right now. I mean the last fucking time you were that, so why should I go blind now?"

Gamzee tried to hold back a bigger frown and instead smiled. "I suppose I don't need to all up and show you the scars of my past. Let this be a composed meet-up and let it all flow through the day. Let this day be for us, you know?"

Karkat sighed. "Fine. I'll stop asking you about it for the rest of the day."

The argument stopped and the bottle kept spinning. Their tongues kept giving out their present lives and stories. It was good enough for Karkat to be distracted.

Gamzee looked worn out after the babbling and talking, he was staring down at the counter with a neutral expression. He didn't pick up another Faygo, and he wasn't proceeding with the game anymore. His arm lied dead on the surface and his eyes were dull as graphite.

"Hey, Karbro," He said without giving him a smile. "I think that maybe we could go up to see the stars, since yours are so motherfuckin' grim still."

"Getting fucking deep all of a sudden?" Karkat recollected the last moment he kept track of the time before they started talking. He remembered it was about four, so it shouldn't even be close enough to nighttime yet. Or at least that's what he thought. Maybe they'd been talking for hours and Karkat couldn't care to notice. Perhaps this accidental meeting was refreshing and worth it. He didn't know. Seeing his best friend transform into someone new, seeing everything he had seen before revised and painted into a better light, and the new lips upon Gamzee's face speaking out about how everything was working out, it felt like he was meeting Gamzee for the first time.

He had always been peculiar about Gamzee. Whether he hated him or not. But at this moment for the first time, he liked Gamzee with pure and true genuine. Perhaps this was a new start.

"C'mon, it's getting late. Let's do this before the big motherfuckin' hand of the Master of Time gets tired."

Without giving a rebuttal, Karkat sighed and walked out with him.

Immediately into nature's sleeping hollow, the wind slapped both of them in the face. Gamzee's wild wavy hair flowed in the wind and Karkat was only blinded by the strands of dark brown shielding his eyes. The sky was a salmon pink. The stars and the moon was close to shining. In both directions the evergreen oaks's branches and thick leaves cooed and swayed. There were no sounds of car alarms or people speaking, and not even the sound of walking. Gamzee, despite his unexcited tiredness, was mesmerized of the evening.

"Motherfucking beautiful. We'll lie down on the Messiah's green sheets and stare deep into the ole black's eyes."

Karkat was always annoyed of how Gamzee personified everything he saw. As if the world was an entire show. He wondered of how he got along with other people behind his back with a speech of a poor riddler. Must be embarrassing. But Gamzee probably wouldn't have cared, as he was just himself. That was all that was worth in his part of society. If he even had one.

The two lied down and stared. Stared at how much the space could show them, and feeling grateful over such a generous limit.

"How do you feel about your miraculous-given life, bro?" Gamzee asked, his hands behind his head.

"I think . . . _great_, really."

"That's always great to hear. How do you feel about startin' life?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean being what's all up and best for your miracles to get to work." He turned to face Karkat with a lazy smile. "To finally achieve what you wanted, Karbro."

Karkat continued gazing at the sky. "You mean the college courses? A matter of fact, I've felt amazing after I got done with everything. Debt will stop kicking me in the ass and I don't have to see fucking obscene groups of needy people anymore. I'll get a decent job, get paid with decent cash, and life will flow like the fucking water is not even there." He folded his arms behind his head to relieve the knot forming onto his skull of the uncomfortable ground. "Everything now is fucking great."

"I understand." Gamzee kept smiling as best as he could. Mediocrity forming onto his lips.

The sky started to shade into a light gray. "I didn't expect it to be this late. Jesus Christ."

"What, you wanna go now? That's alright if you want to, bro."

"Probably going to go job hunting tomorrow. I might as well."

Gamzee chuckled. "Good ole Karbro, bein' responsible and shit."

Karkat got up and brushed the grass and twigs out of his hair and off his back. "I don't get how you're so fucking rich. Do you just fucking regurgitate the money all out? Heh, people will be a fucking greater race if all the money came from literally themselves . . . well, even that can lead to some corrupted shit." Karkat looked at his feet and sighed. "I'm leaving. I guess I'll see you later, fuckass."

"You serious bro?" Gamzee's eyes lit up, and they in immediate thought calmed down. "Yeah, glad to talk to you!"

Karkat looked at Gamzee with suspicious eyebrows, then stopped and put his hands in his pockets. "See you."

Gamzee then realized that Karkat's walk would last until the moon would start to gleam like a shiny dime. "Wait!"

"Yeah, I know. I didn't bring my car." He scoffed. "Can you drive me to the complex?"

"Sure thing. Hold on."

The nice black camaro Gamzee owned was a luxury in its own to be in. Once the engine was turned on and the gasoline pumping, they were off to the complex.

"Hey-thanks for the ride," Karkat said before closing the car door. He didn't smile, nor did he give a warm goodbye. That was all he said before he turned his back and walked inside his apartment.

Gamzee sighed a long-awaited exhale. His mind had been frozen ever since that afternoon, and now it was beginning its long thaw process. He felt exhausted, when he really wasn't all that tired. He drove back to his mansion with an anticipation for everything to relieve itself.

Once he entered the home, and made sure everything was clear, he took a blunt and lit it, preparing for his lips to be quenched of the 'hit-on'.

_I need this. It's all motherfuckin' good. _He thought, and he chuckled, waiting for time to serve its miracles.

_Everything's all good._

* * *

He took another drag, and he could remember when they were both sixteen. Karkat had gotten his new driver's license after a few frustrated failings in driver's ed. They were driving down once dusk had hit; seeing orange streetlights and shadows of walking people. It was evident that Karkat was getting scared of driving once the sun went down, but Gamzee persisted for his bro to go on with a chuckle or two.

Karkat took a sharp turn by the end of the lane and hit the curb. He jumped from his seat while Gamzee laughed.

"It's not fucking funny fuckass!" He yelled as he thrashed his seat belt off. He opened the door in a hurry and examined his mistake.

"Goddammit . . . " He pressed his fingers to his temple as if he was trying to channel the frustration within.

"Bro, come on!" Gamzee pointed to the wheel. "Just keep driving! You didn't damage the car or anythin'. Keep driving and then the stresses are all motherfuckin' gone."

"Fine. Just fucking fine." He got back in the car and fastened his seat belt again. He turned the engine back on and drove off the edge of the sidewalk.

"You got irritated over nothing, brother."

"Well, fuck me then! Sorry for getting fucking worried over killing us both in a stupid car crash that I'd fucking cause!" He gave a sad glare and stared back at the road. "Maybe I care, fuckass."

"That's all good that you care. But maybe you need to relieve your thinkpan with more love instead of worries."

Karkat rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Good for your 'hakuna matata' bullshit."

"How about you stop the car to a safe spot. I got something that'll chill everything out for ya."

He listened and after a few minutes of driving, they found a small abandoned parking lot for a dentist office that never took business. The streetlights gleamed a darker orange.

"Alright, bro," Gamzee said and he pulled out of his pocket a baggie. "this can calm your jumpily nerves since you're so worried of gettin' the car and us crumbled." The baggie was illuminated by the streetlights to reveal joints. "I got you and I covered, bro."

Karkat stared at the baggie. "You want me to smoke it with you?"

"Isn't it the motherfuckin' obvious?" He laughed, and took out a lighter from his front pocket. He lit it twice to get an adequate flame and set the tip on fire.

"I'm just trying to help a friend out."

Karkat looked down at the steering wheel. He sighed stressfully. "Fine. As long as if I won't be a nervous wreck like I always am when I take the wheel."

Gamzee smiled at Karkat and threw him a joint. Once he was done taking the first smoke, he handed the lighter to him.

They both started smoking, and once Karkat was halfway done, he had a smile more wide than Gamzee's. "Gam . . . " He said; his eyes closing at a rapid pace and his smile turning into a grin. "this is fucking magical."

The smoke trailed to the sky from the window. Their mumbles of slurring euphoria getting quieter by each drag. Gamzee would occasionally tell Karkat to "go without the law or anyone's back", He declined, at least the first few times. Gamzee kept laughing and commenting of the night's beauty and stars.

"Karbro-_Karbro,"_ Gamzee persisted, his chuckles sounding more happier. "Let's do something fun, _you and I. _C'mon; listen to your best bro."

Karkat glanced at him. "I've already said no, fuckass."

"Fine. Then we'll ride along the highway till it hits midnight. Fuck, I don't even know what motherfucking time it is now."

"Idiot." Karkat laughed. "Okay, sure. Let's go."

Before Karkat could turn the engine on to drive down the lane, Gamzee saw in his mirror a cop car pulling behind them.

In the present, Gamzee could remember the trip to the police station. They were both high with the evidence found and prosecuted. He remembered, that this wasn't his first time being caught after curfew and having marijuana, but it was now Karkat's first. As he kept reminiscing, he took another drag.

_It was all my motherfuckin' fault. _He thought quietly. They were both sentenced with days of community service; and Karkat was enraged at Gamzee for the longest time.

Karkat had it rough after that night. They would rarely hang out over Karkat's parents finding out and keeping their son away from him as much as possible, making Gamzee feel horrible over himself. He had no one to go to anymore. It was all his fault.

The sad clown sat down on his couch. He tried curling into a ball, not wanting anything else to enter his mind. He did feel bad through the years, the neurotic guilt and sinking feelings overlapping his quiet but content days or his bursting and happy days. There was no escape. He had been alone for so long, and Karkat was his only friend through the years. The only person that cared about him forgave him.

He was on the couch feeling horrible and melancholy. And this was supposed to be the happiest day he had in a long time.


	4. Rough Ways

**A/N: **_ GOOD NEWS I AM STILL ALIVE, IN CASE ANYONE IS STILL STAYING WITH THIS STORY - which I now doubt. I haven't given up on the story, it's been two months, a lot worse than my usual delays, and I feel horrible over it. Honestly this has been done for a while. Like, at the beginning of November I got done with it. But I really wanted for someone to read it through since I kind of had some sparks in this. So I guess I wasn't distracted until I got done. I own up my mistake, and hopefully you guys forgive me. And I really hope this chapter is good! I've had some ideas, and they're probably going to be experimented in the next chapter._

_Until then, I'll still be around. I'll try getting more updates quicker soon, and I'd really appreciate for any thoughts or criticism. If you like it, let me know! And as always, have a good day. -Porcy_

* * *

Gamzee's bedroom days later returned to its casual clutters. His pants dead flat on his carpet and his shirts on his desk chair. It was morning and the blinds were shield shut. He woke up, eyes burning from lack of sleep, and the bed feeling hard as stone.

He stared at the ceiling with a blank mind; wearing the same clothes from yesterday, and hell, maybe the day before that too. He didn't want to move out of his covers, he was too much in a shameful guilt to wake up. His eyes clenched tight, hoping for some exhaustion to wash over him, but it only made him more awake.

Gamzee pushed the blankets in a careless force. He walked out of his messy room to the bathroom to start the day. And god, when was the last time he stared at the mirror?

His hair was wild and unkempt. He hadn't washed it in perhaps days. His eyes' bags were as near as worse as Karkat's. He sighed, ruffling his long fingers in his hair, leaning his elbow on the counter. What was wrong?

Days had passed ever since Karkat and Gamzee had hung out after a few years; a numbing tumor forming upon his mind. His softly bit his lower lip as he walked out of the bathroom and his eyebrows creased, forgetting to turn off the lights. He would've phoned Karkat to maybe hang out again, but he didn't want to bother Karkat at this time of the morning, and the fact that he was probably still job-hunting or already had a job. Gamzee was a shower of silver and gold, and he didn't have to care about anything. It felt in Gamzee's mind that he wasn't a part of his own life anymore of his common vacancy.

His past was an essence in his thoughts. His twinkling eyes gazing up at the ceiling once again. His cloudy mind remembered of his work schedule and that today was Monday - and that was one of his busiest days. He internally winced at such a beginning, bewildered of how the weekend could be so short-lived. He closes his eyes, nothing could get him out of his drowsy haze.

Alas, more thoughts poured into the evermore fountain of his mind. Gamzee, with his sluggish attitude and downpour state of mind, lazily gets ready for the day.

After all, it doesn't take long anyway.

Gamzee had taken a drive to a cafe, accepting coffee to maybe enlighten his mood and energy. He had to go to work in the next couple hours, might as well. When he entered the cafe, the brewing aroma of coffee and pastries fired up in his nostrils. Small tables of chatter surrounded the store. He took a strangled breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he walked to the large counter.

His eyes darted up to the menu, deciding to keep it plain and simple. "Small latte, _please." _

The clerk nodded. "That'll be three dollars and thirty-five cents then."

He pulled the money out of his torn wallet and handed it to the clerk. "Nice to see your sunshiny face on this miraculous morning, sis."

The clerk's eyes gave Gamzee a look of question. "Uh, yes, sir."

He frowned hearing the response, but hassled out of the way seeing another person behind him. He moved to one of the tables across the room and waited.

He saw of how long of a line was held even in just the mornings. Each person asking for an extravagant title of coffee and conversations being held in a messy unison. Damn, it's goddamn busy in the morning. Perhaps busier in the world, too. Gamzee was sure of it. He tapped on the polished wood of the table and heard his order from the counter.

"Thanks sis, you have a good day, m'kay?" He took the latte with a smile, getting out a twenty dollar bill and shoving it in the tip jar.

The clerk stared in awe. "You sure about all that money?"

"Positively sure, dear." He gave a friendly wink, and put his wallet in his pocket. "Have a good day."

He walked out of the cafe, surpassing a few people barging in as he was stepping out. The morning sun gleamed on the sidewalk and Gamzee's face. He was pretty sure he had enough time to relax before going to work.

He took an impatient sip of his coffee, and his tongue and mouth rejected the searing liquid at immediate touch. He swallowed the hot beverage down, not having another chance to spit it out, and he could feel the trail of the heat travel down his throat. He found his way to a bench and sat down, watching each car pass by on the road.

_I wonder what Karbro's all up and thinking right now . . . _He settled his coffee cup down on the empty spot of the bench, deciding that maybe, just maybe, he should wait until he takes another sip.

As minutes passed, the cars started turning foggy. The bright light faded into an obscure white, as Gamzee was starting to daydream. A soft, fuzzy ringing settling in his ear drums.

His eyelids drooped down, his long fingers tapped on the wood; sullen lips upside down, closing his eyes.

"_Hey - hey, _you asleep man?"

Gamzee's eyes fluttered open. He glanced up at the voice and saw a lanky man like him. He shut his eyes tight, and the colors returned.

"No man," Gamzee groaned. "morning ain't my thing, y'know?"

"Yeah, right back at you."

The man sat down beside Gamzee and got out a pack of cigarettes. He slid one out and loosely stuffed the cigarette between his lips, lighting a flame.

"Tired and shit, motherfucking life dragging me on the floor with my sore damn ankles." He complained, after time taking a second sip and feeling no effect. "Sorry for motherfuckin' preachin' so early in the morning, brother."

"No worries." The man pulled out another cigarette and waved it at him. "Need a smoke?"

"Nahh, I quit a while back."

"That's good news then."

"If that's so, bro."

The man tilted his head, his cigarette tilting with him. "You sound pretty doom and gloom, 'ere, man."

Gamzee paused, and sucked his lower lip. "It's all good."

A long cigarette plopped onto his lap. "Just in case if you need one, you can thank me later."

"Appreciate it."

He put the box of cigarettes back in his pocket. He gave a strong wave, and walked off down the street.

After seconds passed, Gamzee got off the bench and threw the cigarette on the concrete. He grabbed his latte and looked at his clock on his phone. He sighed; it wasn't even noon just yet.

Gamzee looked around his scenery, his face was swallowed whole of the bright sun, remembering of the backwash of the fading star in his disorientated state.

Hunching and in blue, he sauntered on the sidewalk, but just before he picked up the cigarette, and felt more at ease.

* * *

Karkat looked down at his attire. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt with matching black jeans. He looked at his partner, a buff, olive-skinned, long-haired man with the same attire as him. He felt as short as a blade of grass. The man stood several inches above him, exceeding to be more than six foot, and his prominence stood gravely in his robust stance. He kept eyeing his companion, and being anxious of how stupid and pathetic he must look beside a man probably made of stone. The building was dark, the air was hot of the lack of air conditioning, Karkat and the man sat down in their seats with their assigned security cameras.

¨You look like the fucking Hulk for this job,¨ Karkat exclaimed, gazing blankly into the main camera. ¨you'll be able to handle this job like you're walking on wriggler island."

¨Quite the intricate simile for such a security job, Vantas."

He rolled his eyes and kept watching. The retail store remained in traditional lock down. They were at the back of the farthest hallway that lead to the security room, it had been about an hour of perhaps worthless watching.

"This a new job for you? I just started - obviously, since you're the fucker that tagged along with me on this."

"Yes. _Well, _not precisely. I've done a few jobs all around the city like this; but having one with a partner _yes."_

Karkat nodded, his brows arched as he focused his attention into the scenery. He stopped at a certain camera and peered at it. _Those mannequins I swear . . . ._

Clothes upon silicon figures was scarce into the room, looking quite ominous in the dark. A rectangular glass case of jewels and brilliant engagement rings was in the center of the room, and Karkat realized of it's burnishing value of anybody. It was a quite nice retail store with expensive embellishments that any riches can endure; and thus being a security guard, this was a risky job. Precise? Karkat quietly smiled as he took his eye off the camera. He looked at his partner, proceeding his way out of the room.

Karkat didn't bat another eye over it and continued on his job, minutes passing on the drawn out night. He switched to the main camera, seeing the man walking in a line, a loud _clonk _audible in each step. He watched him walk, and couldn't help to feel small of his overpowering stance. His face formed a scowl.

His shoulders slumped, and he glanced at the passageway. His teeth biting onto his lower lip. It'd make sense for Roidhead to be wandering throughout the store as a threatening beast of prey upon anybody breaking in. You never know, really. Perhaps this will make a challenging team, one puny ambitious idiot watching the cameras like a preschool wriggler and a watchdog that takes on the _real_ danger. Screw that man. Why couldn't he be so capable, like a real leader of some sort. Karkat took a heaving grimacing breath, as he felt an odd shadow behind him.

He snickered, thinking it might be Roidhead. He turned around seeing a black silhouette from head to toe, bashing the lights of his eyes.

Karkat's back slammed upon the table, knocking off close-by cameras with his waving arms; the sides of his body aching along with his head and spine. He glimpsed at the intruder, wondering how the hell he got here, and instead got up.

"Hey _fuckass!" _Karkat shouted, the fury rising inside his heart and through his vocal cords; a light bulb glistening inside his pupils. With his built-up strength, he punched the intruder in the jaw, the man quickly slumping down on the chair like a lingering rag doll. Karkat couldn't help but beam inside.

He gripped the black collar of the intruder, giving a superior smile upon his prey. Until stomping was heard from across the passageway, and in comes the man of significance and strong excellence. His hands clenched the back of the intruder's neck, and Karkat had thought he had broken the sucker's neck by his exasperated gasp. Karkat's grip broke loose as his partner lifted the intruder up in the air.

Karkat's palms formed into motionless fists staring up at the two. His partner was just holding the man up, neck in capture, his dangling body looking pathetic and hopeless. The light bulbs inside Karkat's seething eyes dimming to something more dead.

It's not fair that he couldn't be the one to save himself.

His mouth opened to form words, but nothing came out. He got up and nodded.  
"_Good job, _he probably came here to stop me first since I'm with the equip-" Karkat felt a sharp sliver of a dagger pierce through his stomach. His mouth gaped open.

"Vantas . . . " He still kept the man's neck gripped, but his face was shocked as ever. "Never in my years had I seen this happen thus far . . . "

Karkat's knees sputtered down on the ground. After seconds his blood flowing into a small mess beside him. His mouth was open, but he kept quiet as he continued to bleed.

His partner took out his cellphone with a spastic pace. He called the ambulance and police, and Karkat's vision faded into obscure white, until it all transformed into a pitch black.

* * *

The car drove past the highways and streets to the hospital. Gamzee was going through insanity over seeing his best friend. _Motherfucker got hurt on the first day - goddammit! If only I could've been there to . . . ._

His cellphone rang inside his pocket. Without prohibition, he snatched the phone out of his pocket to read an old name: "_Equius". _It had been a while that he talked to him. This was odd.

"Yo, what's up now? I'm kinda busy on my plate bro."

"Despite me not enjoying your voice in my ear, I'm sure you've heard the grave news."

"_News _brother? Yeah, I motherfuckin' _do _have news ringin' in my ears at the moment. Shit hit me hard . . . " Gamzee's voice ticked down to a more desperate and melancholy tone. "How do you even know?"

"Because I was the one with him at that point in time."

Gamzee's felt an enormous cloud burst through his mind. His voice rung into a ragged crescendo. "_Ohh _brother?"

"Yes. I did all I could. I didn't know the man wielded a knife. Good news being that he'll be able to survive just fine with the proper treatment."

Gamzee heavily sighed. "How long will he be cooked up in there?"

"Perhaps a week. I'm going to have to work alone this week due to present events."

"Good checkin' up with ya then, I guess."

"I suppose best wishes for Vantas, Makara."

The phone call ended. Gamzee tried focusing on the street but he felt as if his eyesight was blurred by incoming tears. He kept his eyes open to suppress himself, the hospital being only a quick distance away.

When Gamzee got into Karkat's room, he froze; seeing the distressed Karkat lying in his bed looking miserable as ever. With his glance, he then gazed up at him too.

The bags under his eyes that had been inhabiting him for years grew deeper under his sockets. His mildly fit arms looking like a loose part of an ancient plush doll, and Gamzee couldn't help but see the medical equipment that crowded the small hospital room. Gamzee's mouth gaped open. "Bro . . . _m-man, _shit looks bad."

"Said it'd be fine." Karkat's voice was small and weak. A look of woe and numbing pain smoothing on his face. "_I'm so fucking stupid, _Gam."

"No, no, it's all motherfucking fine." He approached a chair aside by the white wall and sat in it. "What all motherfuckin' matters now is you seeing the colors of the sky again. Thank the goddamn Messiahs for that, Kar."

"Not really." Karkat sputtered up. "Fuck the world, screw my useless brains out. I'm surprised my depleting brain damage didn't kill me in the first place."

Gamzee's eyes dulled into an aghast glow. "What you just say?"

"Are you brain damaged too?" Karkat scoffed sadly, looking down the sheets that was under him as a fortress. "I can see why you beat me up those years ago . . . "

Gamzee was now stunned. His mind traveled down the speed of light to his banished memory, and over the immediate recall he wanted to dart out of the room. The lanky man slouched down into his seat, resting his head with his hiding hands; a bottle of fury stuffed in his throat.

"Don't ever fucking say that again."

Karkat looked at Gamzee curiously, then sighed. "Sorry."

The room rung in silence besides the residing phone rings, quiet talking, and walking outside. Karkat then heard a quiet sniff, and elongated shuffling, glancing at the clown dropout walking out the door.

"And Karbro-" He said before facing outside of the passageway. "get well soon. Love you best motherfuckin' bro."

Karkat's stare exceeded even after Gamzee left.


	5. Deep Waves -- Part One

((**_A/N: _**_So this is a new unique turn in the story as I try and put some poetry in it. Reason why I say try is because the formatting was a nightmare. It's 4 o' clock in the morning and I'm cranky as hell, and dealing with the formatting not working to give individual stanzas is the most infuriating thing now. So, if you see a line for the poem, it is **not **an opening to a new scene, it is just a poor attempt to make a stanza go through. Dear lord it is infuriating.  
This will also be different from the others, as it is longer and a continuation of what happens here. Heh I suck at explaining. I would talk more, but it will lead to spoilers. So I shut up now.  
Enjoy, and be in a better mood than I am now.)) _

It had been a wonder of how he was able to sneak in all these miracles. He would take in a few pills or sometimes more each day. His mind playing out like a child's sugar high, euphoria exploited so much that it was going limp. Gamzee's anxiety fled over like tsunamis in his head; a body that would shake as if he was a tree branch. The morphine almost felt like it helped.

Gamzee had done enough for the night, sprawled on the couch sloth-like, with a few sheets of paper laying down on his abdomen. Out of the blue, his old shtick of sloppy poetry and song lyrics got in its whimsy. His old blue guitar he got when he was ten from his old man sitting with its back resting on the couch. The invisible man handed it to him on his tenth birthday and left the next day. There was cake and balloons and all things magical for a rich kid's party until tomorrow rolled in like deplorable amnesia. He decided in a lonely phase to learn after he left, despite it being a bitch to learn all by himself. Yet it was very much worth it in the main run. Learning out to orchestrate decent lyrics, tune a guitar in the best way possible, to even playing to a few people he liked. Gamzee treasured music like it was the one that got him out of the waters. His dad still never present. He scooted up from his sprawl to sit his body up on the arm of the leather couch, the papers shifting with him in an unbalanced movement. He gazed at the poem he wrote down.

_I'm left at the isolated edge of the world,_

_Will in hand, heart to take a drift,_

_Closing my dim eyes, not a sunshine to abide,_

_Ain't a speck of things to be there at all._

He moves on to the next paragraph, and a bit of a gulp slid down his throat.

_Humane wasteland, forgotten society to mass-sobriety,_

_Stoning of our dim souls be inept of the shit they speak,_

_I will never leave of the smiles, laughs, and hugs,_

_Being the only tug of reality I now seek._

He continued on and sighed, looking at the flourishing content settling upon his eyes. He crossed his legs in a fit of comfort, his vision scattering off to different corners to stare off at.

_Remembering you is like a coo in the wind,_

_An ocean's suffice of its own token coin,_

_I remember the nights I screamed, I remember the nights I started to dream,_

_You'd take me upon the stars where the dreams could shoot as a beam,_

_Our tides were soothed, and the wind was at tune._

* * *

_I sit on the edge of the world, watching the sunrise getting its unfurl,_

_Meadows that hide all things true unraveling its flowers,_

_Waters of true blue mirrored of the sky's paintbrushes, I see it all in blissful rue._

_In my Deadman's sobriety, I am far away to be,  
_

_Did it all need to be foreseen beneath our dead sea?_

He gave the paper a nonchalant nudge away until it then fluttered down on the floor. Mind already in a fuzzy hue. A beckoning worth ignoring. He shuffled to lay down on his side, his arm hanging and hand touching the cold wood, eyes giving a monotonous dread at the pile of paper. The blue guitar neglected from his grip and from his love.

He finally fell asleep after only a few minutes. Sheer nothingness sweeping him off to dreamland. A black vortex opening to him. He woke up stiff, laying on his other side facing away of the table, birds tweeting and singing outside.

He groans grudgingly.

Gamzee crouches into more of a ball, keeping himself at ease as best as possible. Worrying sick isn't something good for his body, he knew it like a science. And he also knew of the new habits wasn't going to get him any slack, he knew it like it was his religion. But it was all good, he thinks, once the worries and stress stop getting its wretchedness on he'd stop and he'd be fine. The marijuana held as a true and precious pedestal. The pills were now something of a side note. The effects would tear him down to the deep end again. But he be damned if he wasn't proclaimed as the almighty master of fixing himself whenever things were better. He was sure of that. The back voice of his mind makes a shrug. Whatever goes continues until the turnout was all clear.

A shrieking alarm sets off in the middle of his daydream. All the way into his living room he could hear it like it was right by his ear. He groans again in his mind just thinking of how far away it was, not wanting to move a single bone.

His body stretched again, limbs dangling off the couch. After several more buzzes he got out of the red leather heaven-seat and raced to his room, glorifying of the new mess. It was early in the morning and he already had a headache. Clenching his temples with one hand, he looked and remembered what the day was.

It had been more than a week since Karkat got hospitalized, he nods to himself. Maybe the coop would finally let him out to see daylight again, they already delayed it enough. A foggy smile broke in, despite the solemn scene. He went back to the living room and sat on the couch, eyeing a piece of poetry lying on the floor.

_The eyes see grey, the mind glows blue,_

_My habits ain't nothing when it comes to you._

_For you to look over me, for the raindrops all to ensue,_

_My cloudy smile still having a hue, to let it all be washed away by you._

_Well, aren't I a sappy fuck._

* * *

His body couldn't be any stiff. A beep and a buzz out in the distance. The white walls he'd stare at for seemingly hours was giving him so much nausea, that and probably over the days of medication he had. He laid on his rough bed for hours now, everything as placid as a boring river. His abdomen numb.

His eyes stayed open for the entire night, staring off into the dark hallway where doctors pace through the hospital. The day was a drowsy haze. The sunlight shining through his window pane giving him a pounding headache. Karkat's mouth swished of cynicism and the aftertaste was pure anxiety. Itching to be released and awaiting to see Gamzee take a drop by the hospital again, looking worse than the last. Gamzee sounded alright, at least to his faulty standards. It was always nice to see his sharp face almost everyday.

Karkat scratches at his head until running his hand through his hair. Still in hospital wear, and still a fucking wreck.

He had heard doctors talk outside his door of his release, saying if things were all too good to be true he'd be let out today. Just maybe. Karkat looks down at his stomach and still sees the placement of the stab. He still had some time to recover from the injury despite his patience's unreliability, making life like dirt tracks on a long and desolated road.

He held his head up with his slim hand, list of numbers and days trailing off his mind like steam. His elbow leaning on the soft pillow that only made his head sunk. He was off the medication and the needles lodged up his arms were gone. The times he had flinched when they were preparing to stab another needle into him he couldn't recall. The stinging feeling seeping into his flesh and the word 'blood' giving him the strength of a fidgeting fish. It's been a shit week.

He gave up resting his head on his hand and instead sunk down into his bed, feeling the covers stir beneath him. A doctor with rough brown hair and caterpillars for eyebrows walked into the room with a flurry of wind. Check board in hand and glasses hanging down to his chest.

"You'll be let out soon. Hope you have a ride waiting for you."

Karkat only nods as he signs a few things.

Minutes go by as he waits some more, and a bit more after that. The white walls washing over his vision in a bitter light. He closes his eyes and pretends that he was asleep. The sense of vulnerability under his closed eyelids pressuring him to open them up again. Alas, more minutes pour down until Gamzee came back again.

Gamzee's eyes had sunken into his face looking like he hadn't slept in years. His smile radiated his entire face staring into Karkat, wanting to take him home.

The drive to Karkat's place then led for the both of them to go to Gamzee's, keeping everything content and flowing.

"You feelin' better now?" Gamzee asks after a string of silence. His eyes facing the road, not much of a wreck as he was when Karkat got in the hospital.

"After a week of all the drugs that not even an addict would exploit and people checking on me everyday, I think I'm fine getting the fuck out of there." Karkat scoffs and stares back at the road with Gamzee.

"I can only motherfuckin' imagine, brother." His hands loosened on the wheel. His eyes darted to Karkat for only a mid-second, Gamzee's smile was warm. "I'm glad you're out."

Karkat closes his eyes and smiled with pseudo effort. "Only thing on my limited bucket list is to not get stabbed again. I rather not be stuck in a hospital for more than a week." He sighs.

"It's alright now. All is good. I'd feel the same way if I ever got in your motherfuckin' shoes."

Karkat pauses, staring at the grey foggy world in front of the window. "You won't even make it for a day. I can see it right now."

"That's the thing, yo. Better to be cooped up and motherfuckin' safe than - y'know, get stabbed . . . "

"I get it. Stop sympathizing. It's gotta be the most pathetic whimpering I've ever heard from you, Makara."

Gamzee's eyes stayed on the window. "Sorry bro."

"And anyway - what have you been doing while I was in?"

His throat closed in from any sound to spew out trying to hide anything that was wrong. He wondered if he put up everything from sight before he left; he was sure of it. The table scrubbed from any leftover ashes and all the cigs thrown away, poetry lying under the sofa cushions. There was always that paranoid side of his brain that reverses any kind of confident thought to oblivion. He paid attention to the road and nodded. "Nothing much. It's been kind of quiet without you being around, so yeah."

Karkat looks at Gamzee and smirks. "Got off your fucking life for a while now, huh? Why it's so _quiet?" _

"Nahh. Ain't even the realness of your claim, bro." Gamzee sighs and makes a right on the packed road. "Just without you, no one's around really."

Karkat's smirk turns down and he grunts in approval. "I got that. But do you have anyone else around at all?"

"Not really. They all kind of leave, yeah?"

"Are you talking about the people we knew before? I still see them every once in a while. What happened?" He remembers the time he met Sollux at grade school, his gawky lisp and loud sneakers echoing from a mile away. They met and they were practical rivals against everything. Running the fastest to who knew the most curse words, both getting in trouble at the same pace and reason. Sollux was still around, maybe grew out of his lisp too. But now he worked somewhere around the town for computer maintenance, almost never able to make a visit.

Karkat remembered a girl whom he met at high school and having the most pathetic and fiery crush for her, Terezi Pyrope. She was a new student during the middle of freshmen year and had the poorest eyesight imaginable. Her dragon-headed cane swiping nearby peoples' ankles and feet. An elongated smile saying 'Oops sorry 'bout that' and she goes off her way through the suffocating hallway. Her red-tinted glasses always shining through the fluorescent lights. Karkat noticed her in his afternoon classes as she tripped on his shoe, doing that same dimwitted smile and trying to shake his hand. They hit it off as close friends after that, but never evolved into what Karkat wanted. It was always complicated.

Gamzee straightened his back. "Nah, man. Been forever since I've seen one of them fuckers. Besides - I doubt they'd want a meeting with me." He hums as a pause. "Shit happens, I guess."

Karkat said nothing, as he only nodded.

Gamzee looked over his shoulder to see Karkat aside. "You too?"

"What? Oh, no - after high school everybody just drops off the face of the Earth. Seems that way every single fucking year as a matter of cold hard fact. You meet someone, and then they give you the most bizarre middle finger of the entirety of space and never talk to you anymore. Just happens, I guess." Karkat turned his head to the door window to see speckles of rain sticking onto the clear pane. "Surprisingly I get used to it, being alone and shit like that. I'm fine with it."

Gamzee taps on his leg as his left arm takes the wheel. "I can't take that being alone thing. It gets in your head too much and too motherfuckin' quickly."

"Weren't you always like that though? When we were in high school, you never seemed to be around until you found me. Smiling like an ape and just goddamn _begging _for some semblance of a hug. Your pot forest circling around you was _abhorrent." _

Gamzee sounded like he was holding in a chuckle in his throat. It ceased in only seconds. "Ey, it ain't that bad. Not like I do anythin' else, y'know?"

"I guess. If you were just a pothead I'd be alright. But you just got fucking -" He didn't felt that it was right continuing. He thought he already said enough. He felt awkward not able to finish his sentence in the silence.

Gamzee knew. He didn't force anything out of Karkat. He knew and he only sighed in acknowledgement.

And then they were home.

The rain trickled down Karkat's face and he pulled his gray hood up. Gamzee didn't mind the cold drippings tracing through his hair and leaves it be.

The roof darkened of the soggy rainy day ahead of them; the trimmings leaving paths of escaping raindrops. The ground steep of rain at each step they took to the house, mud clinging to the tip of their shoes. Karkat groaned.

The door opened as Gamzee perused through a mess of keys. Gamzee had a hard time picking the right one, much to Karkat's annoyance. His quiet raving making Gamzee's enlightenment of the pattering rain existent.

The warmth invited them in and Gamzee took first seat on the couch. Karkat sat and wiped the cold water off his face with his sleeve and his hood stayed up. With a chuckle, Gamzee shook his head furiously in an attempt to get rid of the shower-like wetness, a part of it was to rile Karkat for the day. He thought it was worth it.

After shaking his head he pressed both palms on his face, flicked strands of wilted hair off his cheeks and smiled at Karkat. "Feel better?"

"I'm alright." He grabs a jacket string and pulls it.

Gamzee scoots closer to Karkat and pulls him into a hug, one arm trapping him, his chin sitting atop his head. He started to nuzzle his nose into his hair although it felt more of a headbutt; his arm wrapped tight as he began to hug him.

This was one of the first hugs Gamzee gave out in a while that felt affectionate. Karkat struggled out of Gamzee's strong arms and he gave up almost at an instant. The two sat there in silence, hugging till one of them popped open.

"So - shit, you're hugging too tight." Karkat said. "Missed me after a week or something?"

"Yeah. _Yeah!_ I did!" Gamzee hugged only a bit tighter. "With you getting stabbed and being in the coop, things got kind of heavy on me." He rubbed his nose on his head in delight again. A bit of a chime coming out his throat.

Karkat lowered his head to his lap. His wound the reminder of that night. Once a scar opened, it would always be there. You either showed it off or hid it away. Karkat didn't want it neither way. Gamzee tipped Karkat's face to his with only his index finger, his lips forming a glower and his eyes resorting to a puppy dog's.

"I said something that I ain't shouldn't have. I get how you're up and sensitive over it - I'm sorry."

"No dumbass, it's fine." Karkat pulled his face away from Gamzee's. "I can tell you missed me as much as an abandoned imp or some shit like that. I get you were upset." He bowed his head again and twiddled with his jacket strings. "It's kind of nice that someone cares."

"What does that mean?" His head tilted a bit to the sentence. His eyes sparked of a new-found astonishment.

"I mean, it's just been a while since anyone's been around for anything. Like we said before. Everyone fell off the Earth to find another bullshit planet, I guess." He didn't laugh at that. He only played with the strings more.

Gamzee gives a so-phony-it's-astonishing scoff. A chuckle mixed with it. He appealingly stares at Karkat's hidden face and makes him look up. Karkat's face was a tad red.

"I get that feeling too. I get it every motherfucking day, really." His face never changed. "Ever since we kinda split apart I been feelin' like utter shit, man. Gonna be flat-out honest to you. I ain't ever seen life's good side whenever you left, and now you're back. It's a literal goddamn miracle that we're here right now." Gamzee looks away to stare with lazy intentions at the wall behind them. "Filled with all the wonders and dreams you can fuckin' imagine brother! Shit - I could seriously go for something good to have a premonition on." His smile grew wide with a landslide. His heart was figurative and his mind crammed of sudden euphoria. A rainbow gliding above him. He slapped a hand on his right shoulder and hummed, Karkat's confused tapping snapping him out of it.

"Okay? You alright or something?"

"Yeah man. Just displaying how I feel right now." He hums again in his throat like a stuffed message bottle. Turning away from the wall and back to Karkat to pet his head like a fluffy cat.

"You were talking about feeling like literal shit? What's with that before you dozed off to fucking dreamland?"

"Oh - yeah -" Gamzee's gaze met with Karkat. "Uh, just I kind of got some blues on me and shit happened. Is life though. Life ain't filled with miracles, but you can make it."

Karkat nods as his locked eyes slipped down to the ground. A piece of paper was sitting, abandoned, right beside his feet.

"So now that you're out, and we're best friends again, I'm pretty motherfuckin' chill to this date." His smile gleamed off his face, not noticing the paper. He slouched down on the couch where he'd be almost lying down, only that Karkat was blocking the way, so he let his feet hung off the cushions.

"Whatever you say, I guess." Karkat thought in pause and looked back at Gamzee.

"You should stay the night here bro."

He shrugs. "I can do that."

Gamzee's eyes lit like a shooting star. The gleam staying on him with a calm radiance. He got up halfway and tugged Karkat's arm for another elongated and affectionate hug.

Karkat accepted; wrapping his loose arms around as Gamzee was strangling. He nuzzled, just a bit, into his chest; not able to realize it completely, but a part of him didn't care.

He guessed that Gamzee needed this; someway, somehow. There was a lot that he needed to unravel.

As Gamzee was hugging the life out of Karkat, he so felt the need to grab a pill, or maybe a smoke, to build up this plethora of happiness. That it'll never go away.


End file.
